


Ashes To Dust

by Dikhotomia



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, I really have no idea how to properly tag this, It's Cinder what do you expect, Magical Bonds of a kind, Snapshots, Some Humor, With a dash of violence, also angst, but there's some what ifs in here, like this is all over the place, not told chronologically, we still follow canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-01-15 03:36:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18490516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dikhotomia/pseuds/Dikhotomia
Summary: The pawns lay scattered off to the sides of the board.Cinder picks one up, rolling the carved obsidian between her fingers. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Salem watching her, tea cup held midway to a sip, waiting until the moment Cinder shatters the fragile silence that hangs between them.ORA series of moments following Cinder from Volume 2 to current and some from before.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back on my bullshit again and really I hope to stay on it for the rest of the hiatus because I either write or drive myself crazy waiting.
> 
> Anyway this is inspired by [This theory](https://astoria00.tumblr.com/post/180991119309/so-in-another-post-i-talked-about-the-possibility) by astoria00 with a little star wars (don't judge me.) I'm having fun playing with the possibilities.
> 
> Unbeta'd as usual, so all my mistakes are mine.

Shadows drip coagulated down the walls to pool along the floor and tabletop, casting the room in a bloodied hue; bruised sky only adding to the ever present threat of danger that loomed throughout this entire realm.

The chess set sits untouched between them, pieces frozen in a long war of attrition.

Cinder resists the temptation to disturb them, ghosting the tips of her fingers across the jagged crown of the Queen that sits opposite Salem's King. To an outsider the board looks a disaster, pieces haphazardly set up without a thought to the proper positions, like two rookies learning how to play. Or two veterans who've simply decided to forgo the rules and play their own way. To them it's a battle plan, each piece an important player, moved only when new steps were taken.

She remembers in snap shots, each time she came back to this room, how the board and it's pieces had looked. She remembers before it was even set up, when the pieces were set out but no plan had been made. The first move, a second, a third, until now; bishops, knights and rooks all spread out in a futile attempt to protect Salem's king.

The pawns lay scattered off to the sides of the board.

Cinder picks one up, rolling the carved obsidian between her fingers. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Salem watching her, tea cup held midway to a sip, waiting until the moment Cinder shatters the fragile silence that hangs between them.

She does, dropping the pawn back to roll across the table, not bothering to stop it as it vanishes over the edge and onto the floor. "There's nothing to report," she says, leaning back in her seat. "Everything's going about as smoothly as we expected." Because really, there was only so much you could expect from a terrorist group and criminal with his band of prepaid by the hour mooks. Even if she would begrudgingly admit they had turned out to be more useful then she initially thought.

She only wished Roman complained _less_ frequently about how many times 'little red' and her friends got underfoot. There was only so many times she could stand to repeat herself, yet she found herself reminding him each time; he was being more than compensated for his troubles.

( _"Aren't you a little young to be starting a revolution? Shouldn't you be, I don't know, in school? Having boy woes and talking to your girlfriends about the latest fashion?" Cinder smiled, and strongly repressed the urge to set his cigar on fire._

_"My age, or what I should or shouldn't be doing at it, is none of your concern, Roman."_

_What ended up being his concern was the money she had, and the opportunity her offer presented._ )

"And nobody suspects anything?" Salem's question is only half serious, her tea cup placed back on it's saucer in front of her. Cinder's eyes roll to the ceiling, a scoff catching behind her teeth.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. They're all scratching their heads trying to figure out what's going on, and I plan to keep them chasing their tails until the very last moment." She knows Ozpin is likely aware Salem was making some sort of move, but the scale, and who was orchestrating it, continued to evade him.

Little did he know his biggest threat had greeted him in the hallway this morning on the way to a shared class she was only attending for appearances. A class she was currently only present for physically, her mind having found its way here at Salem's gentle call. "I look forward to your triumph, Cinder," Salem says, "But for now --"

"-- _Miss Fall!_ "

The connection breaks on a blink, the sitting room replaced by the classroom at Beacon and Glynda Goodwitch staring down at her with a look of fierce disapproval Cinder feels more than sees.

"Am I interrupting something?" Goodwitch asks, and Cinder can hear just how loaded it is, the unspoken admonishment hidden easily in the tone of her voice. She wonders, briefly, if she had spoken aloud or had moved in such a way that gave her away as distracted. It grates on her, being caught out of sorts like this in a room full of students. Students who now whisper and laugh at her misfortune until silenced with a sharp clear of Goodwitch's throat.

She waits, arms crossed, riding crop hanging loosely between her fingers.

"No," Cinder drawls after several more seconds go by, her gaze lifting to fully meet the older woman's. _Yes,_ she thinks at the same time, still able to feel Salem's presence in the back of her mind, no doubt displeased that she was cut short.

"Then perhaps you would like to volunteer an answer, Miss Fall." Cinder risks a glance around the room, keeping her expression as cool and unaffected as she doesn't feel. Everyone's eyes are on her now, and she can sense Emerald behind her, tense and leaning closer towards her back. She could potentially guess the context, having heard enough of the lecture's beginning, but declines, pretending to own up to being caught. Let them underestimate her.

"No, thank you," she replies, lips drawing into a polite smile she only half manages to make convincing, eliciting another wave of whispers and muted laughter. Goodwitch's eyes narrow as she straightens back to her full height, her disapproval seemingly magnifying with it.

Cinder stares back, impassive.

"Please remember that you are a reflection of your school," Goodwitch lectures, turning around and marching off down the steps back to the floor. "Your behavior can and will color the opinion of your professors and your peers." Her eyes fall back on Cinder, and it takes almost all of Cinder's willpower not to roll her eyes in response.

Class continues after that, uninterrupted.

\----

"I can't believe you spaced out in class," Mercury comments in the middle of lunch, idly shoving food around on his plate. "Our fearless leader, caught unawares. I never thought I'd see the day."

Beside her Emerald jerks and Mercury yelps a moment later, fork clattering to his plate.

"Watch the knee!"

Emerald ignores him, leaning in to Cinder's side, lowering her voice. "Was it Salem?" She asks, Cinder's attention flicks to her. She looks worried.

"Yes," she replies, frowning. "I didn't think my...absence would be noticed." She still hadn't figured out exactly what had caught Goodwitch's suspicion, since Mercury wasn't risking her irritation to pick fun at her for anything other than 'spacing out.' Had she blanked out that bad? It was possible.

"What'd she want?" Mercury asks, fork in hand again. "Not like anything interesting has happened in the last few days. Did you forget to check in or something?"

Emerald kicks him again.

Cinder takes a moment to calm the rising annoyance with them both.

"I did not," she replies curtly, sliding her empty plate away in favor of the remains of her drink. "While she did want a status update, our dear Professor Goodwitch interrupted before she was able to tell me what else she had intended." The silence in the back of her mind told her it clearly hadn't been terribly important, but it still bothered her to leave a conversation as abruptly as she had. She couldn't risk being caught again. Even if she could twist it into being the inattentive type.

It felt surreal to be here, among all these children, playing along with the average everyday student. It was an experience she'd never had at their age, school and classes, dealing with ones peers and teachers. All the drama and exasperation that came with it. It seemed mild in comparison to the life she had lead so far and would end up being just a foot note by the time she moved on. She didn't need to take anything away from it, since it was all just a very elaborate ruse.

One that was working surprisingly well.

\----

Salem finds her again later that evening.

There's a certain silence that settles over Beacon with nightfall, the darkness chasing students back to the safety of their dorms and their team mates. Save for the bold few who wander for one reason or another, a library trip, a chance to slip out into the city, or to just walk the grounds without dozens of their peers disturbing the peace.

Cinder enjoys the silence, true and near absolute as it is. No Grimm, no Watts or Tyrian. Emerald and Mercury are set up in other rooms nearby leaving her with her peace of mind and room to think, to exist, without having to worry about what nonsense either of them had gotten up to.

She catches a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye, fingers hesitating mid turn of page, book forgotten in her lap.

"You should not have answered me if you were in class, Cinder."

The book snaps shut with a twitch of her fingers, eyes lifting to where Salem glides across the carpet towards where she lounges on the bed, one foot swinging idly off the side. The older woman looks startlingly out of place, a God among mortals.

"I wouldn't have if I was going to miss something," she replies quietly, swinging both legs off to sit up properly on the edge of the mattress. "The lecture was little more than a review." She knew it had been a risk, answering that gentle tug and following it back home, but it was a risk she had taken anyway, facing the consequences when she had been caught.

Salem smiles a smile that's warmer than most of the other's Cinder has seen over the years, one she knows is reserved for her, for moments like this when it was just the two of them and no one else. She sits with her on the edge of the bed, now looking almost comically out of place.

She feels simultaneously dwarfed and comforted by the older woman beside her, a sensation that had taken more than a few of their collective years together to get used to. She had been unsure how to feel at first, conflicted, warring between fear and wanting desperately to trust this woman who promised to take her away from the horror she faced day to day. She was glad she had chosen to go, and as time had worn on, glad she had been able to find a middle ground.

"Next time I would suggest you wait," Salem says, shaking Cinder out of her thoughts. She holds up a hand to save off the protest Cinder holds on the tip of her tongue, "I like being interrupted about as much as you do." Not at all.

Fair enough.

"What was it that you were going to tell me?"

"I was going to tell you to take heed, as well as your are hidden Ozpin is going to start looking more closely as your plan continues to advance to it's later stages. Fortunately, he foolishly believes he can keep this quiet and just among a select few."

He wouldn't be doing much of anything anymore soon enough.

Cinder had made that promise going in to this.

And she had every intention to deliver.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those what if's are here now, and they're not going away anytime soon.

Getting lost in Salem's citadel is a memory that surfaces each time she finds herself disorientated. An unwelcome reminder of the darkened maze like hallways that lead to dead ends or cavernous rooms with vaulted ceilings that made her feel small, the stairwells that lead to the open air outside and jagged rock faces that could just as easily have impaled her as they could have saved her. The Grimm perched there had watched, heads tilted, eyes burning and observant.

It had been Hazel that found her, frozen and afraid, staring back at the Grimm.

"You shouldn't be out here," he'd said, the Grimm's attention drifting from her to him as he passed to stand in front of her. She blinked, the terror still keeping her pinned to her spot. She had done something she shouldn't, and she shrunk away as much as her numb limbs would allow.

Several emotions crossed Hazel's normally stoic face all at once, confusion, dawning realization and then sorrow. His posture eased, softened, becoming as nonthreatening as a man of his stature could manage. Slowly he knelt down extending a large hand towards her.

"Let's get you back inside."

Hesitantly she reached out -- she had been afraid so afraid that it was a ruse, that she would be punished in one way or another -- and took hold of one of his fingers. He lead her back inside without further comment.

He spent the next few weeks teaching her the lay of the citadel when she wasn't learning from Salem.

\----

Getting lost at Beacon afforded her a distant sense of being _inconvenienced_. The mental map she had drawn in her mind becoming a blank as she traced back her path and wondered what left or right she shouldn't have taken (It was her own fault, admittedly, for her curiosity.) She finds herself wandering the garden a little aimlessly, easily affecting the look of someone just out for an afternoon stroll, each step mapped just as every single one had been before. 

As easy as it was to get lost, she finds, it's almost as easy to find the way back.

Salem is seemingly waiting for her by the reflecting pool as she returns to the path back to the courtyard, an inky shadow falling across the pure white of the stone underfoot.  
"He really has done quite well for himself," Salem says as soon as Cinder's reflection draws up beside Salem's (only in her mind), her eyes dropping to look at herself staring back. She doesn't need to ask who the 'he' is the other woman is referring to, only needing to follow her gaze to the tower in the distance. "It's almost a shame," she continues, when Cinder doesn't fill the short silence between them, the students coming and going filling it instead. "To know that this place will soon be nothing more than ash and dust."

Cinder's lips twitch in a ghost of a smile. _I can't wait_ , she thinks and beside her Salem hums.

"A few months more." Salem turns away from the pool and Cinder falls easily into step beside her without needing to be asked, starting a slow weave through the afternoon foot traffic. She leads without leading, keeping even with each gliding step of the older woman beside her. Salem can hear every flickering thought to their direction, following without following each subtle change Cinder makes to the leisurely course around the school grounds.

Salem stops only occasionally, only briefly, to admire the views. Once to lift a hand and brush it across the leaves of one of the many trees scattered across Beacon's campus.

Each time Cinder stops to watch her, waiting until they move on. They walk like that, comfortable silent and companionable until the dinner bell tolls and Cinder finds herself alone with the rising drone of distant voices.

She leaves to meet up with Emerald and Mercury and head to the dining hall.

\----

"I don't suppose you've ever played chess, have you?" Salem asked her when she wandered into the sitting room, their little private space for lessons or tea or just to chat. Cinder assumed that this time wasn't any different, it would be another lesson or --

Chess?

"No, I haven't," she replied, shifting her weight slightly. She'd grown older, grown out of the wariness and the skittishness that made her jump at every shadow that fell across her path. She didn't flinch anymore when a voice rose too high, or a hand lifted for a sharp gesture. It didn't mean she'd stopped avoiding the company of most of the people here, Salem and Hazel being the soul exceptions. 

Cinder didn't think she'd ever like Watts or Tyrian; One's condescension and the other's manic laughter. They both grated on her, but at least she was no longer afraid of either of them, the anger and irritation a welcome replacement for the temptation to turn heel and run.

But her ability to tolerate (or not) the people here wasn't the point of this meeting, the board and it's scattered pieces was.

"No matter," Salem said, waving her over. "Come, sit. You need only know a few rules for this particular version."

At the time it had seemed pointless, but she sat anyway, staring at the collection of pieces both standing and laying on each side of the board. Black and White. Cinder chose one of the more elaborate pieces, holding it up to study the jagged but impressively carved surface of it. Pure obsidian, she realized. Cinder set it down on the board.

Salem reached over and adjusted it. "This," she said, looking up at her and waiting until their eyes met. "Is the piece that represents you; the Black Queen."

She didn't understand, confusion writ plainly enough on her face Salem had laughed. 

"But I thought--" _You were the Queen_ \-- Salem hushed her with a lifted finger, then reached for another piece, even more elaborate. The crown spiked higher and the obsidian woven through with gold.

"In the grand scheme of things I am represented by the King," she said, placing the piece down beside the queen. "The game is over should I fall, and everything we have done up until this point will be rendered moot." The idea of Salem dying was so farfetched Cinder couldn't begin to try and imagine it.

It just wasn't possible in her mind.

"That's why the mission I am sending you on is so important, you will have absolute autonomy. You can make any choice, any move, to achieve the ultimate goal of felling the White King. So gather your pawns, your bishops, your rooks and your knights, but be sure to choose them wisely." She had set up each piece as she spoke, all of them neatly set out and awaiting the hands of the players who looked at them.

Salem had told her the plan in it's entirety then, and how Cinder could claim the power she so sought.

( _"I still don't understand how a whelp like you could have caught the attention of our Queen the way you have."_

_"Because, Tyrian, Cinder has potential yet untapped and the drive to find it."_ )

\---

She wakes to the sound of an argument, the familiar voices chasing away the acute sense of familiar disorientation. She hadn't intended to fall asleep, just wishing to rest her eyes. Neo sits beside her on one of the many scattered crates, legs swinging idly as she counts the handful of Lien sitting beside her.

"--I didn't have any choice! Those kids just showed up at the rally, what was I supposed to do? Let them get away?! You clearly don't know me very well." 

Cinder shifts slowly, straightening from her lazy lean on the couch Roman's mooks dragged in from some part of the ruined city in an attempt to 'make it more homey' as she'd been told. Whatever, so long as the work got done Cinder didn't care what any of them did in their free time. She catches Neo watching her as she stands, pausing long enough to meet the other's dual colored eyes. 

"I can't believe they beat you again, you had a Paladin this time."

She jerks her chin in the direction of the quickly rising voices.

Neo slips off the crate and shadows her as she leaves the abandoned train car, leaning her shoulder against the door. "It just means we must not underestimate our opponents," she says, stopping the argument as all eyes swing to her and Neo beside her. "Besides, the White Fang was nice enough to procure an entire weapon's shipment, soon you'll have plenty of new toys to play with. More Paladins included."

Roman laughs, Emerald rolls her eyes.

\---

"I'm sending you to meet with our contact in Haven."

Cinder looked up from where she rolled a white pawn in it's semicircular motion underneath one finger, raising an eyebrow. It wasn't the first time Salem had brought the subject up, but it was the first time she was going to be sent out to actually meet them.

"He'll provide you with your way in to Beacon."

She smiled.

Lionheart was the exact opposite of his namesake, curled in on himself and skittering from one part of his office to another, speaking quickly enough it's easy for her to tell he'd lost Mercury three words in. She left him to wander the office, trusting Emerald to keep an eye on him. As much as the two disliked one another, they worked well together when it counted. It freed her up to focus on the important, on what Lionheart mumbled as he collected papers and nervously slid by where Mercury and Emerald had stopped to study a bookshelf.

"I take it you've already been filled in on the plan," Lionheart stuttered, dropping heavily into his chair. He wrung his hands, drummed the tips of his fingers together.  
He wouldn't meet her eyes.

She didn't care.

"Yes," she said, clasping her hands in front of her, pinning him with a quiet stare and watching as he paled a few more shades. "I've been working to carry out parts of it already, that's why I'm here."

"Yes of course, I've already got all of your files done. But your stories --"

"Are up to us." She smirked, calm and dangerous all at once, "Don't you worry Professor, I have that all taken care of."

\----

She doesn't expect the rooftop to be occupied, and the sight of someone already there stops her in her tracks.  
But Cinder immediately identifies who it is, red hair practically a beacon in the light of Remnant's forever fractured moon.

( _"It means the invincible girl isn't as invincible as people think --_

_\--Add her to the list."_ )

Pyrrha turns, surprise melting into a welcoming smile Cinder is only half able to return. 

"I didn't think anyone else came up here," Pyrrha says as Cinder crosses the rooftop, turning to face the distant city when they draw up beside one another. "You're one of the visiting students?"

"Yes," Cinder replies, breathing in the night air and looking out at the view. The city sprawls, pinpricks of light looking almost like the sky itself had reached down and settled. "From Haven." It's a rehearsed line, spoken almost automatically each time someone encounters her.

( _"Which school are you from?"_

_"Haven."_ )

"What do you think of Beacon?"

The question is one she honestly considers. She has no rehearsed answers, no immediate though to grab and put words to. She folds her arms across her chest, sliding her gaze across the city to what they can see of the school from where they stand.

"It's beautiful," she says, turning back to look at Pyrrha. "There's a lot to see, to do. I've enjoyed my time here so far, no doubt I'll continue to." But it wouldn't stop her from allowing the Grimm to do their best to tear it apart, wouldn't stop her from picking through the ruins to find what it was she sought. 

It's only a half truth, but Pyrrha smiles, unaware.

"I came here from Argus," she says, and Cinder listens, looking up at the sky. "After I graduated from Sanctum instead of going to Haven like my family wanted me to I applied to Beacon."

"What made you choose Beacon over Haven?" Cinder doesn't know why she's asking, but the words are out before she has a chance to think them over, eyes flicking from the stars above to Pyrrha.

They watch each other, Pyrrha considering her question, considering her.

A moment later she looks away, frowning. "I wanted to go somewhere no one knew who I was."

It makes sense, and Cinder hums.

"Didn't exactly work." Pyrrha laughs, but Cinder can hear the hurt underneath it. "Less people know who I am here, but those that do treat me the same. I still have my team, my friends. It's just..."

"You don't like being treated like a celebrity." It's the difference between them. While Cinder enjoys the idea of being able to look at the people down beneath her, Pyrrha wants nothing more than to be among them. But she understands the difference, their upbringings, their situations. It made them see things differently.

"No."

Pyrrha sees the best in people, Cinder sees the worst in them.

They lapse into silence.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to fight writer's block and then I rambled too much. 
> 
> One extreme to the other.

" _You know what must be done. Hunt them down, and dispose of them._ "

Tyrian sprinted a head of her, all manic laughter and wild edged grins he kept angling over his shoulder at her as she followed. She didn't run, more than content to stalk their terrified prey at a more leisurely pace. Blood dripped and smeared an obvious enough path that she needn't worry if her temporary partner bobbed out of sight again, weaving in and out of twisted trees and decaying buildings.

She could still hear him in the scrape of his boots and the occasional quiet giggles that echoed through the long dead town.

Of all the places to run...

"Cinder." Her head titled, eyes flicking up to where Tyrian hung half off the rotted out frame of a building. "Over there." Her eyes followed the lanky line of his arm, catching sight of the desperate flicker of movement as their quarry ducked behind a still standing stone wall.

"Well?" She asked, looking back up at him. "What are you waiting for?" She already knew the answer; he was waiting for the terror to fully sink in, to leave their target stuck between the slight hope of possible escape and the looming awareness of death that still lingered in flashes. So she's not surprised when he answered.

"Fear, hope. He's the last one left, he wants to be the lucky one. I want him to think he's the lucky one."

And then he wanted to kill him.

So they waited, attention turned away but senses tuned in to every little noise while they pretended to be absorbed in their own conversation, letting it turn sharp edged and argumentative. Their voices rose, fell and then Cinder walked away, throwing a hand up in mock frustration. She circled, slipping into the reaching shadows cast by the setting sun, then out of sight entirely.

She could still see the very moment the wounded hunter edged out of his hiding place well after the sun had cast the land in bleeding shadows that reminded her of home. Watched as he picked his way towards the forest at the far end of the city.

Tyrian struck just before he made it to the shelter of the trees, and Cinder could hear the hunter's screams long after night drowned Remnant in moonlit darkness.

(Later that night Cinder took two of Salem's pristine white pawns.

A day later Salem took two of hers in retaliation; annoying, but inconsequential.)

\-----

The scar on her wrist aches; a distant reminder of a memory she refuses to entertain. It doesn't stop it from lingering in the far reaches of the back of her mind like an itch she couldn't scratch, waiting for the one second she let her guard down.

Cinder had long since learned not to.

Salem still catches her rubbing her wrist, working the stiffness and the pins and needles feeling out of her fingers. She looks up when a cool hand covers her own, letting the older woman's fingers replace her own, circling her wrist and chasing the numbness away.

"I didn't expect you today," Cinder says when Salem releases her hand finally, leaving her to flex it and watch each of her fingers bend. It's not the first time Salem has showed up unannounced, simply there without the subtle pull of warning. Just this time she had caught her in a moment of weakness.

It irked her a little, being caught like that.

But Salem makes no comment on it, instead choosing to better explore the room Cinder has taken up residence in. She still looks out of place, much like the first time, stopping to read the list of books stacked on the table. "I wanted to inform you I sent some stronger Grimm out to join the others already in Mountain Glenn," she says when her finger runs over the last spine, eyes lifting to fixate on where Cinder still stands in the center of the room.

It wasn't something that required Salem to come here, but Cinder knows better than to question what Salem does with her time. 

"We're almost ready," she says instead, leaving the 'why' to die in the back of her mind. "It will give the Grimm you've sent time to arrive." There was more than enough crawling around already, all of them watching, waiting for the right moment. All Cinder had to do was pull the proverbial trigger and watch the carnage unfold.  
In truth, she only needed the small fry for this stage of the plan, and they both knew it.

"Good." Salem vanishes when a knock on the door interrupts her concentration, the conversation ended.

"Come in," Cinder says, crossing to the desk to sit back down in the chair she'd vacated. Emerald and Mercury fill the space next, Neo tagging along behind them. 

Cinder waits.

Emerald makes her report.

\----

Ruby turns out to be her next unexpected guest, her surprise carefully schooled into something confused instead of the mild annoyance she actually feels. The younger girl dances from foot to foot, wringing her hands and looking up and down the hall frantically.

"What's wrong?" Cinder asks, relegating herself to soothing whatever fear had taken hold of Ruby and drove her here of all places. Alone.

"I can't find my dog, he just took off and now he's gone and I've looked everywhere I can think he'd go like twice and I still can't find him--" She pauses to draw in a lungful of air, the anxiety turning into guilty panic and then surprise when she looks up. "Cinder! Oh, uh, hi." 

Cinder's eyebrow raises. "You have a _dog_? On _campus_?" 

" _Technically_ I'm...uh, not _supposed_ to but." She shrugs, nervous laughter stuttering out instead of any further explanation. "I need to find him or Yang's gonna kill me, forget that my dad's gonna kill me. I mean he can handle himself it's just he's important to us and can you help me find him? I normally wouldn't ask but It's been an hour and normally he would have found his way back by now--" 

Cinder holds up a hand to silence her, taking a moment to untangle the jumble of words. She should say no, tell her that she's busy with schoolwork or waiting for Emerald and Mercury but a part of her knows that helping Ruby could be advantageous later.

"Alright," she says, stepping out of her room and into Ruby's space, forcing the girl to take a step backward. "I'll help you." She barely gets the door shut before Ruby's hand has seized one of her own, practically dragging her off down the hall.

They search for another hour, splitting off and regrouping, Cinder listening to Ruby's anecdotes ranging from the dog they're looking for to her various antics both with and without her team. She feigns interest through some of it, humming low in the short silences between Ruby's nervous chatter.

"What's Haven like?" Ruby asks when their search of the courtyard turns up only a few students caught in compromising positions and no sign of any dog. 

"It's built at the top of a mountain," she starts, and Ruby stops to watch her with rapt attention. "The whole city of Mistral is built into the mountains, from lowest point to the Academy itself at the peak. It's sprawling with it's own tower and a grand hall that draws most of the attention. Not unlike Beacon itself." Her fingers brush against a pillar nearby, eyes trailing a line up along it. "One day maybe you'll be able to visit. Words don't do Mistral or Haven justice, only seeing it can you truly appreciate it."  
The words bring with it a feeling of longing, a longing to return home if only for a few hours.

"Do you miss it?" The question startles her, as if Ruby had read her desire in the set of her expression. It makes her think a little more of the younger girl, that no matter how naive she might seem, there was a depth to her that remained hidden.

"I do," she replies, slipping her hands into her pockets as their path lists closer to the gardens. "But I enjoy being able to travel too, to see the world and all the sights it has to offer." It wasn't a lie, as much as she did miss Evernight and it's strange charm, she jumped at each chance Salem gave her to get out and see.  
Freedom was an addicting gift and one she never wanted to lose.

"When I'm a Huntress, I'll be sure to visit Mistral. Hey, maybe we can go on missions together!" Ruby runs ahead of her as she speaks, stopping to pose. "I can't wait to see you guys in the tournament! I bet you're super strong."

She allows herself a laugh, shoulders twitching in an abortive shrug. "You'll have to wait and see." And there would be a lot to see, so much more than what Ruby and her friends were expecting. There would be no missions together, just the ashes of burned bridges between them. So she lets Ruby have her fantasy, let's the girl think that maybe they'd become friends and travel together.

In another world, if Cinder were a different person, Ruby could have gotten her wish.

They find the missing dog after Ruby had lapsed into another flurry of chatter, excited instead of nervous, going silent only when the tell tale whine of an animal became loud enough for them to hear. She trails behind as Ruby rushes a head, rounding the hedge in time to see her holding the dog to her chest.

"Zwei! There you are, I was so worried! You just ran off like that and then I couldn't find you and how did you get yourself locked in the tool shed?"

Cinder pretends not to notice the broken lock on the door as she approaches, stilling when a growl rises from the dog -- Zwei -- in Ruby's arms. 

"Shhh Zwei, she's a friend. I'm sorry Cinder he's just nervous after being stuck for so long."

She waves it off with another smile, forcing it to warm her eyes and take off the edge she wore like a shroud. "No worries, but you should probably get him back before someone sees." Someone besides her, or anyone else who may have seen him running around before he got himself stuck. "I'll walk with you, since we're heading about in the same direction." 

Not because she wants to.

\----

Yang greets them at the door when they arrive, whatever lecture she had bit off when she sees Ruby isn't alone. "Oh, Hey Cinder," she says, straightening and resting her fists against her hips. "Thanks for bringing her back, I was about to go looking for her myself."

"Sure, she got a little turned around and ended up in our dorms instead. I figured I'd walk her back." Not that there was any danger on Beacon's grounds (yet) but Ruby had begged her to come up with some excuse on the way here; _Zwei got lost_ wasn't good enough, so It just meant she'd have to suffer the humiliation of whatever lie Cinder decided to tell.

She spared her, if only this single time.

"Thanks again Cinder!" Ruby says, grinning at her as she slips by Yang and into their room. "I'll see you later!"

"Goodnight," Yang adds.

Cinder nods, stepping away from the door. "Goodnight." 

_Ozpin's 'simple soul'_ , Salem hums in the back of her mind as she leaves, her lips quirking into an edged smirk.

She passes Blake and Weiss in the entrance hall, inclining her head in greeting.

\----

"Do you remember the promise I made you, Cinder?"

She wasn't sure what brought Salem to ask the question as they sat across from one another in the sitting room again, contemplating the board between them, pawns shifted on either end, inching ever closer to a confrontation.

"Of course I do," she replied, tapping a finger against the side of the table. "How could I forget?" No doubt Salem knew she was getting impatient, growing tired of training and sitting through lessons and meetings she was only included in because she needed to know the state of things. 

Salem knew she wanted to be out in the middle of things, knew she wanted a reason to move her own piece out of it's starting square. She'd been told more than once that it wasn't time yet, that the strongest pieces would move the last so they could deal the deadliest blow.

(" _Patience, Cinder. Soon it will be your time to move, but not a moment before. Not until your training is complete."_

_"But--"_

_"Hush, child. We go again._ ")

Cinder watched as Salem rose from her chair and moved away from the table to the window nearest where they sat. "It's time for you to make your move, but first I have a gift for you."

As if what she had done already hadn't been gift enough, the lessons, the training; saving her life and making her see the truth instead of leaving her to wander blind and stupid for the rest of her life. But she would be a lair if she said she wasn't curious, if she didn't want to know what else it was Salem had to give her.

She stood with a gesture, crossing the space between her and Salem until cool fingers rested against her cheeks and a forehead touched her own. "I give you a share of my power and a bond, so that we will always be able to speak no matter where you are." 

It burned, like the caress of a raging fire, and Cinder clenched her jaw against the pain of it. Her hands lifted to coil loosely around Salem's forearms as it spread until her entire body felt like it was alight, nerves turning inside out, aura blazing to life and shuddering under the change. Just when she thought she couldn't stand it any longer, when the urge to jerk away had nearly overridden her control, it receded like a wave, withdrawing across her skin back to the points her and Salem remained connected.

Her vision swam and the world tilted sharply, every noise too loud, the moonlight spilling in too bright. She swayed, unsteady, held up only by Salem's hands and her own where they clutched onto cool forearms. She slipped, dizziness becoming churning nausea and a pain that throbbed in the back of her skull.

Salem caught her before she fell, consciousness fleeing.

\----

Ozpin approaches them in the library, expression pinched with a mix of concern and exhaustion. Salem's warning plays in the back of her mind as she watches the angry red of the headline about her break in roll slowly across the top of the webpage Emerald thumbs through on her scroll. She pretends not to notice the Headmaster until he's too close to ignore, then all of them look up in unison.

"Professor Ozpin?" She asks, feigning surprise even as wariness takes root. The first years are gone off on their missions, leaving the rest to take missions of their own or remain on campus to study or train. 

"Cinder Fall," he greets, offering a tight smile. "I was wondering if perhaps I might speak with you?" 

She feels Mercury tense where she leans against his arm, watches as Emerald's expression contorts slightly into barely masked suspicion. She keeps her own carefully masked, raising an eyebrow and feigning a polite smile. "What about?" 

"Not here," he says, waving his hand. "If you would?" 

Her wariness sparks into suspicion, eyes narrowing even as she rises from her seat, placating Emerald and Mercury with a gesture. "Very well," she says, resting her hand on Emerald's shoulder as she slips out from between them, allowing Ozpin to lead her from the library all the way to his office.

Ironwood and Goodwitch wait on either side of Ozpin's desk, and Cinder feels decidedly outnumbered, slowly crossing to the chair indicated. "What is this about?" She asks as she sits, crossing her legs to paint a picture of ease she doesn't feel.

"It's just routine," Ironwood speaks up, watching as she leans her chin against her fist. "I'm sure by now you've heard about the break in at the CCT tower?" 

Salem listens, and power itches at the tips of Cinder's fingers. "Everyone has," she drawls, "Horrifying, really, that security could be breached like that." She pretends to be concerned, frowning. "But what does it have to do with me?"

"Where were you that night?" Ironwood asks, and Cinder's expression sours.

"Are you accusing me of something, General?" She's carefully enraged, defensive without being suspicious. To them she's a student confused as to why she'd been dragged away from her friends to an inquisition she'd done nothing to deserve. Someone harmless instead of the very snake in the grass they sought to grab by the neck.

"No, like I said. It's just routine, we're questioning everyone." 

She knows a lie when she sees it, knows that Ironwood wouldn't be wasting his time questioning everyone at the dance let alone everyone in Vale. Just everyone who looked similar to _her_ , to the masked woman Ruby fought in the tower. "I was at the dance with my team." Among the crowd, among the too many people for anyone to remember if they saw her or not beyond the obvious two.

"And how long did you stay there?" This from Goodwitch, arms crossed over her chest, crop tapping idly against one hip.

"From the start to well after midnight, we left about the time everyone else did." After the break in, after she'd slipped the guards and woven herself intricately into the throngs of dancers winding their way across the floor. They're watching her for any signs of something that might be a lie, for something they could press until she breaks. Perhaps they were hoping to scare her.

She gives nothing beyond confusion and quiet outrage. 

They have _nothing_ , but instead of asking if she can leave, she waits. Let's them think over any other possible questions they could ask her --

It's Ironwood that breaks the silence. "You came in from Mistral, correct?"

"Yes." She shifts positions, recrossing her ankles, shoulders pressing harder into the chair. "I don't see what else you want me to tell you, General." She wonders what made them even turn to the students and not to Torchwick and everyone connected to him, wonders if Goodwitch caught more of a glimpse of her that first time they clashed then she thought. 

"I'm sorry to have pulled you away from your team," Ozpin cuts in, sitting forward. "You may go."

"Thank you." She stands, bowing her head before leaving, Salem's voice warning her that they would be watching her more closely.

_No matter_ , she thinks, staring at Salem's reflection in the mirrored wall of the elevator. _It's already too late._

\---

She's not surprised when team RWBY spooks Torchwick into acting too early, just annoyed. She rearranges the plan on the spot, the wail of the alarm droning in her ears.   
Emerald and Mercury join the fray.

Cinder watches.

Salem joins her. 

"It's only the first part, a shuddering of their safe foundation," she says, glancing up at the older woman out of the corner of her eye. He'd done his job, even too early. The people would be on alert now, wary of something else going wrong despite the supposed mastermind being behind bars. For all they knew it was him who commanded their mysterious masked woman to break into the CCT. 

It gave her room to relax a little, and would hopefully put him exactly where she needed him.

He'd just have to sit tight for a much longer time.

"I suppose he's done me a favor, acting early like this." She stretches out, dangling her legs off the side of the building. "I get to relax for a few days."

Truly relax, without the concern of Torchwick coming through or not.

\----

Neo takes up residence in her room a day after, when things had settled down and the damage had been repaired. Cinder waves her appearance off as a late arrival, the teammate that stayed behind in Mistral to deal with a family matter before joining them here at Beacon. 

"He'll be fine," she assures, shuffling through books as Neo watches her from the second bed. "Ironwood and his fleet aren't going anywhere." And Neo would be breaking him out before they would have anyway.

Neo's feet swing, and she leans back on her hands, looking up at the ceiling. 

"From now on things will get more exciting."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the longest chapter I've written so far and the one I took the largest risk in, so weee.

She dreams of distantly remembered kindness; of soft words and gentle touches, of encouragement and concern. Featureless figures who come and go like shadows in a forest. They're memories she can't ever escape, that leave a bitter taste in the back of her throat like rising bile. She thinks she should hate these featureless figures, if only she could remember who they were.

She wakes to the sound of a radio droning a staticky rendition of a song she'd heard once before at a meeting. Emerald hums along with it, her voice a low undercurrent in the hiss-pop of the radio. Mercury hits it, the solid thump of his fist making the radio chatter worse, Emerald's humming giving way to an annoyed hiss.

"I was enjoying that," Emerald mutters darkly, and Cinder looks over in time to see her shoving Mercury away so she could adjust the antenna to try and salvage anything from the now hissing radio.

"Yea, so was I. Thought we'd enjoy it even more without all that static," Mercury replies, a little defensive, a little annoyed. "Shoulda figured this station would come in like crap out here."

Cinder sits up, finding Neo perched with a book at the foot of her bed, green eyes peering at her over the top of it. She looks a question at her, tilting her head at the other two and their bickering, eyebrow raising. Neo shrugs and rolls her eyes ceiling-ward, rolling one wrist into a dismissive flick of fingers. Cinder's lips twitch, but she doesn't smile, turning her attention to where her disciples now have both doubled their efforts to get the radio to work.

"Switch stations, or turn it off," she finally says after the static begins to scrape in the back of her skull, like cloth over dead skin. 

The radio goes silent with a startled slap of a hand, Emerald and Mercury both turning to face her a moment later.

"I'm sorry, did we wake you?" Emerald asks, concern pinching in the corners of her eyes. "I didn't intend-" Cinder cuts her off with a lifted hand and a slow shake of her head.

"No." She doesn't tell them it was her own mind that woke her up with dreams that lingered and pressed on the wall she put up to cage them. Neo watches her like she knows something is bothering her, but her stare remains impassive.

They know better than to ask when Cinder doesn't first volunteer, and she's silently thankful for it.

She stands and steadies herself in her stillness, the last strings of sleep falling away as her mind churns over immediately apparent things.

Like time.

Her fingers slide underneath her scroll where it sits on the nightstand, the device slipped into a pocket as she turns to regard her team again. "It's time, let's head to the arena and make sure we give everyone watching a good time before the real fights begin."

\----

 _Bordem_ wasn't a feeling Cinder liked being acquainted with; being bored made her twitchy, made her irritable and made her think too much in an attempt to find something to focus on beyond the void of inactivity and the sense of nothing to do. 

Watts' little 'meeting of the businessmen' was just that; boring. The lot of them sitting around a table in a private room, smoking, drinking and talking about nothing in particular. 

Nothing _important._

She knew why they were here, finding like minded people they could use to help Salem achieve her goals. But Watts had such a roundabout way of doing it, Cinder wondered if he wasn't dragging it out just to irritate her.

If he was, he was doing a pretty good job of it.

The ice in her glass shifted, clinking loudly and drawing her attention back to the present, lifting it to drain a little more of the bitter liquid, now watered down and even less appealing.

She drained the rest of it on a longer swallow, the burn offering a nice distraction from her growing desire to test how fireproof expensive suits were. _For science_ , she'd say in her defense if she really did grow so bored as to succumb to it, _I was just curious._

Fortunately for everyone else in the room Watts had moved the conversation to the topic they had intended to discuss from the beginning, shooting a smug look at Cinder over the top of his cup that told her all she needed to know.

The bastard.

She listened as Watts tested the group with a few questions, heating the tips of her fingers and watching as the ice, already melting fairly fast, liquefied entirely. She drained the water next, cup set down on the small table in front of where she sat, lounged out on the room's only couch.

"There's a masquerade party in Atlas next month," one of the businessmen said, drawing her attention to them. "I can get you both invites, there are other people who couldn't make it today who would love to meet you and hear what you have to say."

Not quite what she had expected, but maybe spending an hour nearly crawling out of her skin would be worth it.

\----

The crowd is at a fever pitch as the eight of them step into the ring, two teams staring one another down. They expect a fight when Cinder knows it's going to be one sided in their favor, amusing herself with picking out some the small fry early on to make the later matches that much more intense.

(It was how it always worked anyway, life was cruel after all.)

And she'd already gone through the ideal brackets, was already firm in her foresight of which teams would be moving on to the next rounds. It didn't keep her from leaving space for new plans in the event of an upset, or if new information presented itself. That was the perk of playing with the matchmaking roulette right then and there, there wasn't any surprises for her, just for everyone else.

But that was the point of things like this, entertainment, upset, shock, awe. 

It was beautiful in it's violence.

And Cinder was the ringmaster.

She watches the roll for the arena out of the corner of her eye (the one thing she left to chance), hearing the hydraulics hiss and groan as it changes; city ruins and water. It's the only note she makes before the countdown starts, stance shifting and nerves singing with the awareness of the coming fight.

" _Go_!"

Both sides leap into action, a blur of color and limbs and sunlight catching on blades. She doesn't keep track of her team, trusting each one of them to be able to hold their own, or call out for aid if they find themselves in trouble. She doubts the last to happen, focusing down on her own opponent as he engages her. It's quick, and she'd almost feel guilty if not for the howl of the crowd. The impact of a shin against her raised forearm, her elbow impacting an unprotected nose, her heel into a solar plexus sending her opponent sprawling into the water pooled on the far side of the arena. She leaves him in favor of winding herself into the chaos of the others, ducking a sweeping high kick and shouldering the unfortunate target off balance and towards were Mercury waits, winding up a heel kick that downs the poor bastard easily.

He grins at her and she shrugs.

The rest of the match plays out similar, a mix of seriousness and a playful edge Cinder allows herself to indulge in. They are, after all, playing with their food.

She tunes out the commentary, lazily strolling a circle around the last ditch effort of their opponents to even eliminate one of them, stepping over the man Neo had knocked unconscious a few moments before.

It ends with a ring out, and a final drone that rattles in her teeth.

\---

Atlas parties, she found, where about what she expected; fancy with a sense of superiority that otherwise would have annoyed her if it were in any other setting.

( _"How hypocritical," Watts muttered and Cinder was reminded why she tended to dislike people from Atlas on principle._

 _Part of her sincerely hoped they all weren't as irritating as him, especially if she had to do business with them._ )

It wasn't the first party she'd found herself winding through, whether it be by herself or with Emerald and Mercury, but it was the first she'd been stuck attending with Watts. It was also the first one that had seemed so... _relaxed_ , lacking the tense atmosphere of 'I have more money than you,' or whatever else it was people competed about up here. 

She knew it was because of the masks, no one beyond the security officer at the door knew who anyone was. The sea of people wearing a range from elaborate to mundane, each mask matching the outfit of the guest. Her and Watts were no different, dark suits and dark masks both serpentine in nature.

They parted as soon as they got through the door, him to mingle with their potential partners and her to observe, to make sure to be there should something get a little...out of hand. She knew Watts wasn't to keen on the idea of her being the one to watch his back, but Salem had flatly told him she was the best option. Like every other time she went in his stead, to learn the workings of politicians and corporations alike.

 _She_ hadn't been chased out.

This time, he had friends and a mask to hide behind, which gave him a freedom to attend and her the chance to enjoy herself for once. Winding her way by the clusters of people either sitting at tables or standing on the fringes of the dance-floor, dancers elegantly swaying to the beat of the music. 

A little higher energy then she expected from Atlas parties.

She reached the drink table as the song changed, selecting a glass of red wine and turning to watch the way the people on the floor change. Some leaving and some having found the courage to join, others finding different partners to start a different weaving dance. She could pick out Watts above the rise and fall of motion and flowing dresses, seemingly greatly enjoying himself, head thrown back in laughter.

"Not interested in mingling?"

The question brings her attention to the woman who'd joined her, aquamarine eyes watching her curiously from behind her mask. Cinder blended in well, she knew how to mingle and her knowledge of the goings on was enough to keep her from getting lost or losing her conversation partners, but stuffy parties made her as twitchy as bordem did.  
But it was part of the job.

"Hard to find an interesting topic tonight," she replies, leaning up to better study her new companion. Tanned skin, deep blue hair tied in a high pony tail. She was slim but well muscled, and it made Cinder think she definitely wasn't one of the corporate types. Maybe a solider, or a huntress lucky enough to be in the favor of one. What features she could see with the mask still on were chiseled and sharply defined, the beginnings of a scar cut into her top lip and vanishing up underneath the elaborate leopard face. The bronze tone of it matched her cocktail dress like all the others, copper tones catching in the light.

"I get that, I'm not so keen on talking about half the things Altesians talk about at these parties." The woman's attention flickered away to the gathered crowd, casting over the dance floor. "But you seem to know how to navigate them."

"I've been to a couple before, though this is certainly... _different_ ," she commented, because despite the formal wear, and the crystalline decorated ballroom, catered food and expensive wine, she found she minded it less. 

"My father has a habit of hosting parties that are more...fun then others. He keeps hoping to start a trend of not mind numbingly boring, so far it hasn't caught on."

Cinder allowed a laugh, lifting her glass to take a sip from it. "Shame, I'd rather enjoy more gatherings like this."

The smile the woman offers her is sharp edged and cunning, shoulders lifting in a shrug. "Maybe if I knew your name, stranger, I could make sure you got on the invite list."  
How clever.

"Doesn't that spoil the mystery of the masquerade?" She asked, crossing her unoccupied arm over her chest, wine glass held aloft in the other hand. "The whole point is to not know the identity of the people you choose to keep company with."

"Maybe, but you're allowed to choose to give that identity away to people you find intriguing. I'll start, since you're intent on being enigmatic, I'm Violet Marian." She extended a hand as she spoke, that sharp edged smile returning.

"Cinder Fall," she returned, reaching out to shake her hand. Firm, quick, definitely a soldier or a huntress. 

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Violet asked, resting her hands against her hips. 

"I suppose not," she replied, draining the rest of her glass and setting it down on the tray of a passing waiter. "I didn't come here expecting to give my name out to people, honestly."

"Lucky me, I'll spare you a dozen other questions I could have asked, then." 

She noticed the songs have gotten steadily higher energy as the night wore on, the dancers becoming steadily more in motion, flowing and swinging with ease. 

"I lied," Violet said as the next shift in music has even them moving just slightly to the beat. "Maybe one, do you dance?"

Cinder smirked, the sharp debate between further engagement with Violet or the desire to remain a passive guest running it's course in less time than it normally would, she was interesting. "I do, I wouldn't make it very far at Altesian parties if I didn't." She'd admit that the footwork of this particular dance was more involved then she was used to, but she was nothing if not a quick learner.

"Trust me I've met my fair share of terrible dancers, not _everyone_ in Atlas can actually dance, no matter how much they brag."

They molded into the flow of dancers with ease, weaving and swinging in time with the pairs nearest to them. She didn't mind the hand on her shoulder, the fingers tangled with hers or the changing proximity of their bodies as each move translated into another. They're not the most graceful, but they're not the worst either, passing glances showing her a few pairs just doing whatever they wanted, no thought or reason to how the actual dance was done.

 _So long as they were enjoying themselves_ , she mused, leaning back as Violet spun away from her, weight suspended on her heels and the other's body before she pulled her back, both of them laughing and out of breath.

It had been a while since she'd been able to let loose and just have fun like this, no thought to her task or the mission as a whole. Just allowed to be some semblance of herself with a person she'd only just met. She liked Violet, her cunning and quick witted responses drawing her in the longer they exchanged barbs as they danced.

Eventually they broke off, when their muscles ached and their lungs burned, leaving Cinder shrugging out of her suit coat and hanging it over her arm. Violet rejoined her, holding out one of two glasses of water. She gladly accepted it, nodding her thanks.

"Well," Violet started between long pulls from her glass. "That was the most fun I've had in a while. Have I met your approval?"

Cinder paused, cool water warming on her tongue as she contemplated the woman beside her.

_Oh. Very, very clever._

She swallowed, caught between concern and her earlier interest. "So you knew who I was?"

"My father is one of the men talking to your associate. I was more interested in getting to know you then I was him, so I drifted from their conversation to find you." She gestured, a quick flick of her fingers. "And here we are."

"You've certainly made an impression, so I would say you have." Her standard had been set begrudgingly low, but Salem's lectures had taught her that anyone could have use, even if it was as cannon fodder. But Violet could easily be so much more, it all depended on if she could sway her to their side. If not, she would just be another enemy to trample underfoot.

It meant, like always, she'd have to be mindful.

"I'll admit I'm new to what your group is planning, but some of the things my father said have caught my interest." Violet stepped back into her space, hands hovering over her biceps until Cinder's accidental tension eased. "I'm good at filling in the blanks, but I want to hear the full story." Her fingers were warm as they traced a path up the red satin dress shirt she wore under her coat, higher still until they coiled around the back of her neck. To anyone else it was just two people getting closer, the barest hint of promised intimacy.

"But not here, obviously. I don't think anyone would miss us, if we left." 

Cinder wasn't too keen being alone with a woman she knows so little about, a name and a face could go a long way, but a semblance and a weapon were just as crucial. She only had the name, but she was confident in her strength to fight if things got out of hand. Though she assumed a woman like Violet wasn't very trusting either, yet she was extending her the offer.

Just them. Alone. No back up, no weapons.

"Alright."

Violet smiled, tracing a finger along the fang that curved the line of her jaw as she withdrew.

\---

She followed silently as Violet lead the way from the ballroom and through the manor's hallways, reds and deep purples lining each in a way that was attention grabbing without being distracting. She's thankful for the chill that permeated as they made their way to wherever Violet was taking her, breathing it in and letting it cool her.

Violet slips into a room at the end of one hallway, and Cinder casted a glance down the staircase they had just ascended. She knew how to get back out, and she wasn't the least bit worried about Watts. She wasn't sure why she'd looked back until she caught sight of Salem standing just a few feet behind her, watching her.

"Do you think we can use her?" She asked, slowly ascending each step. "I'm as hesitant as you to believe there's nothing else going on underneath her curiosity." _So she had been watching_. Cinder shrugged, looking away from Salem to the slightly ajar door and the light spilling into the hallway.

"I'm about to find out," Cinder murmured, turning back to face the older woman now beside her on the landing. "Besides, you always told me that the more we have the easier it will be to achieve our goals."

"But bring too many into the fold--"

"And the plan begins to unravel," she finished, making her way towards the door. "I only need one more piece on my side of the board. I'd like to hope it will be her."  
If not, then a wildcard to play in the event she had no pieces left.

When she looks back Salem has vanished, leaving her alone in the hallway.

Violet had made herself comfortable by the time Cinder slipped through the door and shut it behind her, mask off, heels kicked to a corner and a glass of some colored drink she didn't bother to try and place name to. "Here I was thinking you got cold feet."

"I got distracted looking at the painting at the top of the stairs." She hadn't actually paid it much mind beyond her cursory glance, but it was the only excuse she had available that made sense. She hadn't taken long enough to warrant deciding to look for a bathroom when she could have asked for directions, and her appearance did negate Violet's thought of her getting 'cold feet.'

As if she'd ever get cold feet. 

"Ah, my mom painted it before she passed away." 

A dead mother, a rich father, and a daughter who didn't seem to fit to the image the lifestyle projected. Cinder made her way into the room proper, digging for some sense of sympathy she only distantly felt. "I'm sorry," she said, taking a chance to really look at the other woman. The scar she'd noticed from earlier was deep, curving up from her lip and stopping just under her right eye, her nose sitting at an awkward angle as if it had been broken and never healed correctly. It didn't take away from her looks, if anything it said more about her, that she was unashamed of her imperfections and wore them with pride.

"It's fine, I hadn't really gotten a chance to know her before she passed, so her death didn't hit me that hard. I mean it still hurt, just not as bad as my father's probably will." Violet shifted slowly, crossing her legs at the ankles, the picture of leisure.

Cinder can tell it's a facade, the tension in her shoulders just barely noticeable and her eyes following every move she made, watching her even after she had sat down and removed her own mask to even the playing field. Violet hummed her approval, draining more of her drink.

"Anyway, I'm sure you're not interested in my sob story. We're here to do business after all."

Straight to the point, it was a quality Cinder admired. While idle chatter and small talk didn't bother her, there was a thin line between enough and excessive she did her best to avoid crossing. "I have to admit, I'm curious. You said you hadn't gotten a chance to know your mother?"

Violet laughed, casting her gaze up towards the ceiling. "Yea, I was adopted. She was pretty sick by the time I got moved here from Vacuo and I only had about a year with her before she passed."

"An Orphan?"

"Shit luck, that. Vacuo has it's good places and it's bad like everywhere else, I wasn't one of the fortunate ones. My family got into trouble trying to survive, got arrested or killed, I got saddled with taking care of my siblings." She tossed a hand dismissively, the scar on her face emphasized by her scowl. "It didn't work out well and I found myself alone and barely scraping by until my adoptive father caught me trying to nick his Lien while touring the city. One thing lead to another, I got moved to Atlas, settled in for a bit. I left for the Academy shortly after, this place was too big, and too high class for me at first. It was easier to toss myself into huntress training. Blah blah blah." She shrugged, leaning forward to put her drink down.

"You've made a place for yourself, it seems." They were similar in their histories, going from having little to finding better fortune, but Cinder doesn't compare beyond that. 

"Not really, I'm just on break. Usually I'm hardly home, too busy traveling the world and taking whatever jobs I feel like. Good thing too, since I probably would have missed you otherwise."

"Perhaps missed a chance to meet me, but you certainly wouldn't have missed the impression I plan to leave." She shifted, leaning back into the couch and draping her arms over the back of it. Now, she got to the point. "Have you ever wanted to change the world?"

Violet snorted, looking at her like she'd asked one of the dumbest questions she'd ever heard. "Who doesn't? Thing is everyone's idea is different, and even if it's similar the rest of the world is too stubborn and set in it's ways."

A painful truth, one she'd learned very quickly. "That's where we come in, no doubt you've heard the 'we have the power to change the world' spiel before. But what we have planned will shake the very foundation of Remnant itself, carve a new path for it's people. A new world, if you will."

Violet considered her again, long and hard, seemingly looking to poke holes in what she was saying. Cinder could see the uncertainty, the war waging between continued interest and thinking her to be just another wannabe selling the image of a better world.

"I thought it was too good to be true at first too," she said, lifting her hand and lighting a small flame in the center of her palm. "But I was shown that our leader has the knowledge, the willingness and the power to really do just what she says." 

Violet watched the flicker of the flame, shock melting into confusion and then suspicion, questions circulating over her face but no voice given to them. "That's a neat trick, is your semblance fire manipulation?"

"Something like that." It's wasn't a lie, but Violet can tell it's not the full truth either and Cinder can see the exact moment suspicion gives way to that curiosity from before. She closed her fingers, snuffing the flame out and leaning back again. When she had her she would tell her the full story, until then she'd leave enough out to keep it from biting them later.

"Okay, so, maybe you can change the world like you say. How do you plan to do it?"

"By uprooting everything everyone has come to know as normal, and showing them they're not as safe as they think. That try as they might their leaders are just men, men with too much power and no idea how to use it properly." It's the same thing she's said more than once already, the words of a woman confident in her belief and in her mission. 

"That's one way to do it, a dangerous way." Violet's fingers drummed against her thigh, frown deepening. "I won't ask if you think people will die, a plan like that I'll be amazed if there aren't any casualties."

"Unfortunately." She hadn't found it in her to care, looking at death as what it was. A natural part of life, people died. From sickness, from old age, from Grimm, from one another. 

"What do you need me to do?" Her gaze was sharp, intent. Willing.

"Gather information. Get rid of the occasional...irritation, maybe provide shelter here if we're in need of another spot to recover." She watched to see if any of it seemed unappealing, watched while Violet churned it over in her mind. She realized that Violet wasn't a person like her, or like anyone else that worked for Salem.

But she was a person who would do whatever it took to achieve what she believed was just.

_To survive._

"You have a deal."

\---

"My team is very...introverted. Really socially aw--" Emerald's sentence cuts off as soon as she catches sight of her approaching, giving Mercury a disapproving shove as she passes. Neo trots beside her, grinning her greeting.

"Cinder!" Ruby exclaims, bouncing up onto the balls of her feet. "We were just wondering were you where and here you are! That's so cool, it's like we summoned you or something. Oh! I was asking Emerald if you guys wanted to have victory lunch with us!"

She raises an eyebrow, realizing that Emerald was trying to explain away her absence and talk her way out of this 'victory lunch.' She was aware her disciples didn't particularly care for any of them, and while Cinder did share her irritation, she was here and she was hungry.

"I don't see why not," she says, watching Ruby light up.

"Sweet," Yang says, pumping her fist. "I know just the place too."

"We _hardly_ ever see you," Weiss comments as they begin walking together, the statement making her fill in the part of the conversation before she'd joined them.

"Like Emerald said, we're pretty introverted. Her and Mercury like to get out more than me or Ice." Beside her Neo shrugs an apology she doesn't mean, but it's convincing enough that it passes.

"I can understand that," Blake adds, glancing back at them. "Sometimes I'd just rather spend the day with a book."

Cinder's content to let them believe that's exactly what she does, because it wasn't far from the truth.

They settle down for lunch without fanfare, the conversation having drifted into talk about the teams and the matches and each of their odds that Cinder feigns her way through, making guesses with the rest of them.

The hiccup with Weiss' card is a bit of a sight to behold, and one Cinder might have taken pity on (since it wasn't her money she was spending) but the arrival of Pyrrha and her team allows her to pay for her own team and spend a few moments trading pleasantries with them before they excuse themselves to head back to the arena.

"I don't know how they're so-- _happy_ all the time," Emerald exclaims once they're out of earshot. "it just doesn't make any sense!"

"Some people are just like that, Em," Mercury says, waving in Neo's direction. "I mean look at Neo, she's a ball of energy almost constantly too."

Emerald shoots him a glare, rolling her eyes. " _Whatever_ , regardless, they're _exhausting_."

Cinder keeps her opinions to herself.

\---

Evernight's training room was a sight to behold for the first timer, with it's high domed ceiling and torch lit interior. It looked more like a place of worship than a place to hone one's skills. They did have a chapel, but it paled in comparison to the majesty of the grand hall or most of the other parts of the citadel. She wasn't sure exactly what this place was used for before Salem took it over or how much she might have added on to it or not, but it showed there wasn't much thought to religion.

Out of all of them, only Tyrian held any sort of religious faith, taking the collective inner circle's loyalty to a level Cinder couldn't decide if Salem enjoyed, ignored, or encouraged because it kept him by her side. She had settled on a mix of all three, knowing how much the older woman valued loyalty above all else.  
Loyalty to her, to the cause. 

So Cinder had done her best to find people who would be loyal, if not to Salem, then to her and the cause itself. And in watching Emerald and Mercury battle the Grimm brought in to use as a training exercise, she knew she had found disciples more than worthy of the time she had put in to them, to finding them, to swaying them with everything either of them needed or wanted to hear.

"Good," Cinder called out when the last Grimm had fallen, steps ringing out as she made her way towards them. "Your teamwork has improved greatly." She's reminded of each time she ended one of her own sessions and Salem would point out her successes and her mistakes. "But you still have a ways to go, Mercury you let Emerald take a hit you could have intercepted." She held up a hand to ward off his protest, not in the mood to hear it. "I know, Emerald you tripped him."

She had been made painfully aware Emerald didn't like him, didn't want him around. But as powerful a team as her and Emerald had made on their own, adding a third as skilled as Mercury had been a necessity. He would add to the ruse, which left Cinder to improvise only for the forth member. 

And finding one person as skilled as them in short notice was going to prove to be interesting. 

"I'm sorry ma'am," Emerald mumbled, glowering up at Mercury from the corner of her eye. 

"You two will be acting independently of me at times," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "So I need you to be able to act and fight like partners, just like any of the teams from the huntsman academies." And she didn't care if they didn't like it, holding on to some distant hope that maybe they would come to tolerate one another in their own ways. Like she did for them.

"Again," she said after giving them a few moments to catch their breath and get a drink, the familiar chill prickling across her spine urging her into action again. "It's not me you need to impress now." She can feel Salem coming, the pressure of her presence building from a chill to a bizarre mix of dread and serenity that she had just began to get used to. She heard the door at the end of the hall snap open and Salem's gliding steps as the older woman made her way, the new Grimm lured in already beginning their repeat dance of death. 

Salem had met them both before, but this was the first time she would see them in action. 

"You've done well in training them," Salem murmured after a time of calculated observation. "Much more disciplined then when you first brought them to me."

"Thank you," Cinder replied, inclining her head. Only the best for their leader, after all. "I had a good teacher."

"Flattery is only good if you mean it," Salem said, turning one of those rare but warm smiles on her. Cinder didn't need to say anything for Salem to know she meant it, their shared pride was enough. 

They returned their attention to the fight, then, Salem folding her hands behind her back and watching as the two ducked and weaved, taking advantages of openings left by one another, clearly having taken Cinder's warning to heart. Yes, she thought, feeling the subtle sense of approval from the older woman beside her, they were good choices.

\----

Ultimately, she chose not to meddle in all of the matches, sitting back and leaving the teams that didn't have any use to her goals to be matched up by true chance. It provided a sense of enjoyment that otherwise would have been lacking had she chosen to pick each and every match-up. 

All the important teams had already fought and advanced, and with a little bit of mingling and careful prodding they knew each pair from each team that they had to pay attention to. She had already started drawing up the matches for them between enjoying what was left of the four on four.

However few, now. Having come and gone a few times when the matches got too dull. They had begun wrapping up for the day as the evening light gave way to familiar darkness and the arena lights flashed on in the midst of the final match that day.

They left just as the match ended, wanting to beat the crowd.

"Man," Mercury mutters through a stretch. "I'm starving."

"You ate an entire large popcorn!" Emerald grouses, exasperated.

"Hey, I have a large appetite, besides that was like...hours ago. It's dinner time."

Beside her, Neo nods her agreement, pointing to herself and smiling. 

"Neo's choice," Cinder interjects, climbing onto the nearest transport.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me on my (rarely updated) [Tumblr!](http://dikhotomia.tumblr.com/) Because I'm still on this hellsite for some reason.


End file.
